Harry Potter and the Stone of Dreams
by Bansera
Summary: Re-write of PS/SS. Snape wasn't the only one to turn spy, the Malfoys did too. How will school for Harry progress with four Slytherins among his strongest allies?
1. Introduction

**Story Title:** **Harry Potter and the Stone of Dreams**

**Chapter Title:** Introduction

**Author:** Bansera

**Beta:** Myself

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. JKR owns pretty much anything that you recognise. Trust me, there's no point in suing. The legal fees would be way more than you'd receive.

* * *

**A/N:** This was my first story, or was, before I shelved it back in the summer of 2008. I've decided to rewrite it (kind of ironic, a rewrite of a rewrite) for accuracy's sake, and because there's a lot that I feel I could improve. After this introductory chapter I had three completed chapters posted, plus the fourth chapter is already partway written, which takes you to the first week of term. Please let me know what you think. Let me know if you spot any problems, or don't understand things, I'll try to clarify!

And with that out of the way... On with the show!

* * *

**Introduction**

Albus Dumbledore woke with a start. For a moment he was confused as to what had woken him. Then, with a gasp, he threw out his hand, catching a strange, spindly object that was vibrating incessantly on the bedside table. He dropped it again just as quickly. It was red hot.

"Oh, no." He whispered, blue eyes wide. "Oh, Merlin. No, no, no."

With an agility unexpected in someone of his age, he jumped to his feet and hurried towards the fireplace, careful not to fall over the hem of his nightgown. He muttered indistinguishably, and flames sprang up in the hearth. He threw a handful of glittery, silvery powder in to the fire and called out urgently.

"Hagrid!"

* * *

Hagrid had always thought Godric's Hollow to be a beautiful village. A peaceful place, save the occasional rumoured hauntings of the graveyard. But tonight... An unnatural silence hung in the air. The waxing moon seemed to be hiding, afraid to see what had been done. Dust swirled up from around Hagrid's feet, stinging his eyes and making it difficult to breathe. He gently, carefully, manouvered the child in his arms towards his chest, sheltering the precious cargo from the worst of the dust. The poor boy had been through enough this night. With a shudder, Hagrid steeled his mind, determinedly thinking of anything but the destruction he'd witnessed inside the Potter's house.

A revving filled the air. Hagrid looked up, one hand shielding his eyes. A familiar motorbike came into view, flying somewhat recklessly. The rider obviously spotted Hagrid, and landed in front of him.

"Black." Hagrid said, looking at the rider with distrust in his eyes. "Wha' the ruddy hell are yeh doing here, Sirius?"

"I could ask you the same." The smaller man's eyes flickered towards the house. "I told them I would... check on them. Are they..?"

"Dead." Hagrid nodded. Then, more gently, "I'm sorry."

Sirius' face crumpled, and for a moment Hagrid thought he was going to cry. Then Harry moved, sighing in his sleep. Sirius reached forward to the boy almost without thinking, but Hagrid turned away.

"What..? Hagrid, please." He begged, "He's my godson. He's all I have left of Lily, and Pr-James." He twisted his hands, watching the baby intently, desperate to hold him.

Hagrid looked down at Sirius sadly. "I'm sorry, really I am. Yeh couldn't find nicer people anywhere.' Hagrid said slowly, bringing the younger man back to the present. "But Dumbledore sent me to fetch young 'Arry. I 'ave to take 'im to his fam'ly. His _blood relatives_." He added when Black looked to be interrupting. "It's fer the best."

Sirius looked up at Hagrid, panic clouding his smoky grey eyes. "Please Hagrid. I'm begging you! That boy is all I have left of them, I need… I know I can keep him safe, Remmy and Peter can –" Sirius stopped, realisation dawning on his face. _Traitorous rat! And I convinced them! Prongs, Lily. Moony forgive me._ Hagrid, oblivious to the smaller man's thoughts assumed that Sirius was merely overtaken by grief.

"Sorry. Dumbledore's orders."

Sirius' started, confused, and then realised what Hagrid was saying. His shoulders sagged slightly and he stared at his shoes for a second, kicking up clouds of dust. "Take my bike then, you'll get there quicker."

"Wha'!" asked Hagrid, dumbfounded. "But… but yeh love that bike, why'd yeh give it t' me?"

"Like I said, it'll get you there quicker," Sirius replied, looking him straight in the eye. "Make sure he's safe…" he sighed. "I'll be getting back to Remus then, he needs to know... You can keep the bike. It's not like I'll need it." _Harry will be safe with his family. And once I get hold of Pettigrew… Well, I won't need my bike where they'll send me._ _I'm sorry Moony, so sorry._

Within minutes Hagrid was sat astride the motorbike with Harry snuffling in his lap. Sirius watched as the night gradually swallowed them, and then turned away. As he walked into the village square, lights were coming on in the houses nearby. He kept walking, as muggles cam from their houses, gradually at first, then more and more. Their voices were a cloud of shock assaulting his ears. He turned a corner and, as the sound of sirens broke the air, apparated away.

* * *

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations." _What has the Wizarding World come to? Celebrating this death, this destruction. Oh, Merlin._

"Yeah," said Hagrid, "I'd best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall – Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself on to the motorbike and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," Said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Deluminator. He clicked it once and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that privet drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step at number four.

"Good luck Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak apparated to the edge of a steely black lake.

"Ah, Dumbledore," A silky voice called through the darkness. "You've arrived; we'd almost given up hope. I trust everything went well?" The words had a slightly threatening edge to them.

Dumbledore turned to see two men walking towards him. Both tall, thin and elegant with pale skin. The man who had spoken had a waterfall of white-gold hair that cascaded down to the small of his back. The other had shoulder-length black hair, so dark it appeared to sap the light nearby. In comparison to the lightless hair of his companion the hair of the man who spoke shone like silver moonlight on a unicorn's back, a startling contrast.

"Lucius," Dumbledore replied before nodding at the blonde's companion, "Severus. I do apologise, Hagrid was running late. Harry is, at present on the, er – doorstep of his last remaining blood relatives."

"Why do I get the feeling he is no longer happy with this arrangement?" Severus groaned tiredly to Lucius, before turning on Dumbledore. "The arrangement that _you_ made, despite protests! All the arguments, all the discussions, all... What was the point of all that, today? What was the point if you're just going to -"

Dumbledore held up a calming hand. "Severus, we have been through this again and again, Harry living with the Dursleys will seal his mother's spell. It is a blood spell, only one who shares his _blood_ will be safe for him to live with. I know who you would rather Harry lived with –" Dumbledore twinkled annoyingly. "– but then the spell would be incomplete, and Harry would not be as safe as he could be. Not to mention the fuss James' friends would make if they found out – no matter Lily's opinions." Dumbledore sighed deeply. "Alas, after talking to Minerva about the goings-on at the Dursley household I fear that Harry may not have the upbringing I had hoped. That is to say, the arrangements will make him safe from the Death Eaters but I worry that perhaps he shall be… er… less than happy due to the actions of those he lives with."

Lucius gently placed a calming hand on Severus' arm before the man did anything reckless. "You think that maybe the boy will be… harmed by his _family_." Lucius asked Dumbledore, the word family dripping icily of his tongue as if it disgusted him. Which, in some ways, it did. He had not had the best experiences with family. '_Call yourself my son? You're no son of mine, you're filth_._ You should thank me for trying to force it out.'_ "And yet you still want him to stay there?"

"I know what you would say, Lucius," Dumbledore said, "But it is the safest place for him."

Severus snorted, although there was no humour in it. "I never thought I'd be in agreement with Minerva, I can tell from your voice that she wasn't exactly happy with the arrangement. Tell me Albus, have you become so blinded by your belief of the good in everyone that you disregard the advice of your finest _pets_?"

Dumbledore gazed calmly at the dark haired man, causing Severus to start muttering under his breath about manipulative old fools, but the old man chose to ignore him and instead continued with his speech. "However, I shall not be leaving him unguarded. I have set many wards to ensure that I am alerted should Harry come to … an unusual amount of, err… discomfort. Suffice to say he will not be killed, or in any way disabled – "

"But may suffer enslavement, serious mental degradation, beatings, rape even?" Snape yelled angrily '_Daddy broke my soul, Mummy, but don't worry, it's not broken as much as yours. I wish you'd magic him away Mummy, why won't you magic him away?_', "Your wards would not count that as an _unusual_ amount of _discomfort_, after all it happens in many pureblood households, even muggle households. Is it a case of _Iactura paucourm serva multos_? I would not have thought you would be willing to risk the boy so early on."

Dumbledore flinched slightly at what Severus implied – _sacrifice the few to save the many_ – but was otherwise unmoved by the irate man spitting in his face. "Harry will remain with his aunt. You are welcome to watch over him as you see fit, but he _will not_ be sent to live elsewhere"

The three stood in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, each contemplating their own thoughts. The slither of moon shone overhead, brilliantly white against the cold, black sky.

"Severus," Lucius murmured, addressing the still seething man. "We will not let the boy be harmed. I shall watch the house as often as I can, as well as set up a rotation of house-elves to watch over him. I presumethe house will have been warded so that anyone marked with the Dark Mark will be unable to enter," He glanced at Dumbledore who inclined his head in the affirmative. "Which means if anything does happen neither you nor I would be able to enter the premises to help him. However, it may be possible that I will be able to sneak a house-elf inside without alerting the Muggles or the boy. We will not let them get away with anything, _anything_ that they may decide that they can do."

Severus' shoulders sagged and he nodded slowly in reluctant acceptance.

"Good," said Lucius. "Now, with that unfortunate business out of the way, I should be returning to Draco and Narcissa. Which reminds me," he turned and faced Dumbledore, "he will be in the same year as Harry… when they start Hogwarts, I'm sure he will be willing to offer some form of friendship."

"An excellent idea -" Dumbledore began, only to be interrupted by Lucius.

"And I'm sure Narcissa will be more than willing to help too, she knows only too well the downsides of living a life where one is unwanted…" Lucius stared angrily into the distance, then shook his head as though to clear it before turning back to his companions. "Yes, well. As I said, I must be heading home now. Severus, I trust you will come to visit your godson soon?" '_Godfather? You want me to be Godfather, are you sure that's wise after…_ _' 'I felt the same when 'Cissa told me she was expecting, she said "Your parents don't make you who you are, only you can do that", the same applies to you Severus.'_ "And when you do I'm sure you will inform me of any further arrangements that may need to be bought to my attention."

Severus nodded again. "Give my regards to Narcissa, and say 'hello' to young Draco for me." Lucius merely smiled his acknowledgement distractedly, before nodding in Dumbledore's direction and elegantly apparating away.

"I'll see you back at school, Professor." Severus said to the headmaster without looking at him, not quite managing to keep the sneer out of his voice.

"Goodbye Severus, my dear boy." Dumbledore murmured, as he too apparated away, leaving the old man alone by the icy black lake.

* * *

Petunia dried her hands on a tea-towel and glanced at the clock. It was nine o' clock. Vernon had the day off and was upstairs, bathing Dudley. She smiled, listening to the sounds of her son's giggles. Hanging the tea-towel back on its hook, she made her down the corridor to collect the milk from outside. She opened the door, and almost trod on a bundle of blankets on the doorstep, with a letter resting on top.

Forehead crinkling in confusion, Petunia bent down to look at the parcel. Suddenly, it moved, and a tiny hand appeared. She let out an ear-splitting scream, grabbing the doorframe to hold herself up.

"Petunia?" Vernon called downstairs, sounding worried. "Petunia, are you alright?"

She didn't reply. Instead, she glanced around furtively in case anyone outside was watching, and quickly snatched up the now crying baby. Slamming the door behind her she hurried into the house.

"Vernon... I think... Get Dudley out of the bath. I need you to come here."

By the time Vernon came downstairs, having returned a protesting Dudley to his cot for the time being, Petunia was sat on the sofa, face white, with the opened letter clutched in her hand.

"Petunia?" Vernon spoke to her softly. "What's going on?" Harry moved in his blankets, making Vernon notice him for the first time. "What... what is that?"

Petunia looked at him, and opened her mouth to speak, before thinking better of it. She didn't know how to articulate the words. Instead, she handed him the letter. As much as she wished it wasn't the case, their lives had been changed forever.

* * *

Lucius was outside number four privet drive doing something a Malfoy should _never_ do. Pacing. He had stood, cloaked, at the zoo, following Harry everywhere he went, and yet he still didn't understand what had happened. _Disappearing glass! _Lucius paused, stared at the house, shook his head and continued to pace.

"Lucius, my dear boy," Dumbledore's voice cut through Lucius's thoughts, sounding grave. "I am glad – at least – that you have not tried to enter the residence. The mark on your arm would have alerted aurors and you're not much use to us in Azkaban."

Lucius frowned slightly and muttered in French "_Incroyable_!" – Dumbledore's tendency to state the obvious was rather tedious – and stared again at the house, wondering how Harry was. Wishing he could get inside…

"What happened today?" Dumbledore asked quietly, watching Lucius evenly.

Lucius spun on his heel to face the old man, his robe billowing around himself. "What happened?" He repeated, somewhat angrily. "How should I know? I was only watching him, not _being _the foolish boy." Dumbledore continued to stare at Lucius, unperturbed. Lucius sighed.

"We were in the reptile house. Harry was looking at a Boa Constrictor. I looked away for a split second, just to make sure everything was safe, and then I heard Harry's cousin's friend yell something about the snake. When I looked back the snake was sort of… standing, watching Harry. His cousin pushed him out of the way and…" Lucius crinkled his brow, confused. "The glass, it just… disappeared! It must have been Harry that did it, there was no-one else magical in there, myself excluded, and I certainly didn't do it… but how can he have that power?"

"Hmm… it is possible…" Dumbledore muttered contemplatively to himself, then he turned and looked at Lucius again. "What happened when they got back here?"

Lucius bristled yet again. "They took the friend home, and then they came back here. I watched Harry's uncle shove him through the door! There were raised voices but because of the wards' he looked irritably at Dumbledore. "I was unable to make out what was said. It has been quiet since then. We cannot continue to let them treat him like this Albus!"

"I concur, you are absolutely right." Dumbledore said in a soothing manner. "From previous happenings I believe that Harry will merely be sent to his cupb– ah, room. I shall personally keep watch over him until he starts Hogwarts in September…" Dumbledore twinkled slightly. "I have a feeling that Harry's life will become very interesting and more… _bearable_ when the owl arrives."

Lucius shook his head; not even pretending to understand.

* * *

**A/N:** Word count for this chapter – 2820

Next:

Chapter One: The Directional Day


	2. The Directional Day

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Story Title: **Harry Potter and the Stone of Dreams**

**Chapter Title:** Chapter One: The Directional Day

**Author:** Bansera

**Beta: **Myself

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. JKR owns pretty much anything that you recognise. Trust me, there's no point in suing. The legal fees would be way more than you'd receive. This chapter also contains a couple of lines taken from the marvellous Lord of the Rings (films), so credit for those go to the many people who made the films possible, particularly Tolkien for writing the books! So you can't sue me for that either.

**A/N: **In regards to the title of this chapter, it refers in part to Diagon Alley (diagonally, though I'm sure you all know that), but it also refers to the fact that the story is moving in different directions to canon now. I know that is equally applicable to the introduction, but most of the introduction was comprised of events that were not shown in the books, so yeah… that was my reasoning. Apologies if it doesn't make sense.

I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

* * *

Chapter One: The Directional Day

Harry watched as Hagrid rolled over on the sofa, grunting softly in his sleep. Amazing. Truly amazing. He couldn't have wished for a better birthday. He was a wizard, Dudley had a tail, and the day had barely begun!

Harry reached for the envelope that Hagrid had given him the night before – or early that morning as the case may be. He pulled out the Hogwarts letter to reread, still not quite believing what was happening. As Harry looked at the piece of paper he was startled to see the words changing before his eyes:

_'Harry,  
After receiving this you will be going to Diagon Alley, to buy your school equipment. Whilst there you will be met by a boy of your age, Draco, and his father at Madam Malkin's; there is much to be explained, it's all very important, so listen carefully.  
I can say no more, everything will be explained when you meet them.  
This message is keyed to respond to your magical signature; however you cannot risk anyone reading it. Destroy it immediately.  
Sincerely,  
Professor Albus Dumbledore'_

Harry gaped in astonishment, but was spurred into action when he heard Hagrid roll over on the sofa. Obviously it was very important no-one knew about the letter, even if Harry didn't know why. He turned to the grate that Hagrid had lit the fire in the previous evening, he didn't expect the fire to still be there but he had thought it could be, it was magical… after the evening he'd just had anything could happen!

Thinking quickly Harry decided that the best thing to do with the letter – with a lack of fire – would be to dissolve it. Luckily the storm had calmed down, and when Harry stepped out of the shack and onto the rocks outside the world seemed calm. He sat cautiously on the rock and floated the letter carefully on the water, holding it so it didn't drift away. He watched enthralled as the ink softened and faded. Gently Harry moved the letter across the surface of the water, watching as it broke up. His job done Harry sat and stared out across the water, thinking deeply, oblivious to all that was happening around him.

"'Arry?" Harry jumped, hearing Hagrid calling him. "Harry, where are yeh?" Harry stood up and walked back into the shack, ready to go.

* * *

When Harry emerged from Gringotts he was shaking uncontrollably. Not from fear, quite the contrary. Adrenaline spiked through his veins, and he loved it. He was tempted to ask Hagrid to take him back in. One more ride, but this time faster, longer, wilder…

"I hate them Gringotts Carts." Hagrid shuddered, startling Harry. _Did he know what I was thinking…?_ "Would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? Yeh can git yer uniform whilst ah'm gone. It's o'er there in Madam Malkins."

_They will meet you at Madam Malkins_ "Sure," Harry said, slightly breathless and headed over to the shop that Hagrid pointed out to him.

Nervously Harry entered, chimes tinkling as he pushed the door open. A squat little witch dressed in mauve appeared and smiled at him. "Ah, new robes dear? I'm afraid we're a _tad_ busy at the moment. Would you like to come back later? Or you could wait in our waiting room?"

"Um… th-the waiting room is fine, thank you ma'am." Harry replied nervously. Madam Malkin smiled again, and shooed him into the curtained off waiting area.

Harry's jaw dropped as he entered. There sat on the couch was an angel. Immaculately dressed with platinum blond hair, the light from the nearby window gave the impression that he was surrounded by an aura of silver and gold. Suddenly Harr noticed the Angel was looking at him, blushingly he turned his stare to the floor.

"You must be Harry." The voice – _Draco's voice,_ Harry told himself – contained a hint of a smile.

"Uh, yeah. That's me." Harry said, subconsciously brushing invisible dirt off his oversized clothes.

"Nice to meet you, I am Draco Cygnus Abraxas Malfoy." Draco replied, quite formally. Harry detected a quaver in his voice, and somehow, hearing Draco's nervousness helped to put him more at ease. There was a chuckle from the corner of the room, and Harry whirled around, not having realised there was anyone else there.

"Harry Potter." The man had to be Draco's father, the resemblance was uncanny, although he had longer hair, falling down to his waist. "I am Lucius Malfoy. I presume Dumbledore explained why you are here?"

"Yes," Harry replied, nodding and looking slightly dazed. "Oh, actually, um… he said that you would explain."

Lucius tutted softly. "Typical." He glanced at Harry and continued. "Oh, I don't want you thinking badly of the man. He can just be… intentionally vague at times, it's irritating to say the least." The blonde tipped his head to one side, and motioned both boys to sit. "How much did Hagrid tell you of our world? I can't imagine your… _carers _told you very much."

"Oh, um," Harry stuttered slightly as the blondes both watched. _This is so awkward. _"He said that I'm a-a wizard. That my parents were killed. That Voldemort is dead and um… no, wait. He said that people think he is dead, but he isn't really. But I don't understand!" Harry looked very flustered, which Draco secretly found amusing. _Adorable._

"I'm afraid you aren't the only one who does not understand." _Poor boy, he's overwhelmed. I _knew_it was a bad idea to let those damned Muggles raise him. _"But at the moment it is more important for you to know about his followers, the Death Eaters. As the obstacle that temporarily removed their Master, the Death Eaters are most desperate to meet you. And needless to say that situation would not be… ideal."

"Wait, surely his followers would have been arrested or something?" Harry asked, looking perplexed.

"Yes, well, you would think so. But many claimed that they had been cursed, and that it was only the curse that made them commit the atrocious crimes that they did."

"Oh… So, um, how do I know a Death Eater when I see one?"

Lucius glanced at Draco. "Death Eaters would, when on a raid, wear black hooded robes, and gleaming white masks of bone. They also…" He took a deep breath. "Another distinguishing feature of a Death Eater is that… they all have a mark. A brand, of sorts, that the Dark Lord gifted them with." Lucius started to fiddle with his sleeve, in a way that to Harry made it look like he was nervous.

Biting his lip Harry asked, "What does this, this… mark… What does it look like?"

"Like this." Lucius replied, pulling his shirtsleeve up and revealing his left forearm to the bespectacled boy. Harry gasped and recoiled in horror.

"You're, you're a… Why… Are you here to kill me?"

"Are you frightened?" Lucius asked calmly. Harry nodded. "Not nearly frightened enough, I know what hunts you." Harry's eyes darted around the room in panic, desperately trying to find the quickest escape route. Draco laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Neither my father nor I wish to harm you in any way. Quite the opposite in fact." He felt Harry relax minutely beneath his touch.

"Draco is correct." Lucius said, smiling gently at his son, and the brunette beside him. "However, it was, and is, necessary for me to be completely honest with you. Especially as there are many people who will not be." Lucius knelt, and placed his hand on Harry's knee, looking him directly in the eyes.

Harry eyed him warily. "I guess this may have something to do with why I had to destroy the letter." He paused before continuing. "Although if it was an appointment to have me killed then it was clever getting me to destroy the evidence." He smiled wryly.

"We are not here to harm you." Lucius reiterated, admonishingly. "But you were right on the other count. This is to do with why you had to destroy the letter. This is a very long story, I must warn you. But please, listen carefully. It is most important."

Harry acquiesced, allowing Lucius to continue.

"When I was but 16, still at Hogwarts, my father – Abraxas Malfoy – decided it was time for me to become a man. To do this, he took me to be initiated by the Dark Lord, as one of his followers. My father also insisted that my friend and lover of the time be initiated alongside me. Father disapproved of my choice of lover and hoped that they would be of no use to the Dark Lord, and be killed off quickly." Lucius sighed.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I agreed. My father was a violent man, quick to anger. He struck me and my mother on many occasions, and later when I was married he struck my wife. He was dangerous. Refusing him would have been the quickest way to an early grave.

"A few months after my initiation my father decided I should be wed. He arranged with one of the premier Death Eaters – Cygnus Black – that I marry his daughter, Narcissa. My lover heard of the plan and could not believe that I was agreeing to it, and I was ashamed to admit the truth of my father's actions. My father informed the Dark Lord of his plan, asked his blessing. And within a week we were wed. The Dark Lord… he insisted he be there a part of our wedding. He celebrated the wedding by ordering the deaths of the family of the chief of the muggle police. This was when I realised how badly I'd messed up. How badly my father had messed up.

"When Narcissa announced she was pregnant a couple of years later, I was delighted. I used the pregnancy as an excuse to avoid the Death Eater revels, and the Dark Lord allowed it as he was thrilled with the prospect of being able to rear a Death Eater from birth. Luckily, you temporarily removed of the Dark Lord before his plans for my son could come to fruition, and my father died in Azkaban – the wizard prison – not long after, and so was unable to treat my son as he had treated me."

"So this is simply about wanting to thank me for saving Dr- for saving your son?" Harry asked.

"No." Lucius replied, and then looked at his son. "Well, yes partly, I do wish to thank you for saving Draco. But that is not entirely what this is about.

"A year after my marriage I decided I had had enough. I went to Dumbledore to seek help. He managed to get me work at the Ministry which helped to keep me busy, away from the Dark Lord. And in return I would spy for him at the revels I did attend. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. Shortly before you're parents were killed I became aware that an old friend of mine had also turned spy. We got together in order to further our usefulness.

"When we heard of the Dark Lord's plan to kill you and your parents we did everything in our power to prevent it. Unfortunately, it was not enough. Samhain night – that's Hallowe'en," He added, at Harry's confused look. "The Dark Lord carried out his plan. Dumbledore sent Hagrid to find you, though I've no idea how the Headmaster knew that you lived on. All Saints Day… The esteemed Headmaster, myself and my friend spent the whole day deciding where you should stay, although as always the Headmaster had the final word.

"From that day on I vowed to protect you. You who have given my family, the whole of the wizarding world, so much to be thankful for. If by my life, or my death, I can protect you, I will. You have my word."

Harry blinked dazedly, obviously overwhelmed. _He pledged his life to me!_ Draco took pity on him, and moved the conversation to safer grounds.

"I guess you want to know about school right?" Harry nodded, successfully distracted and looking eager to learn.

"Well, Hogwarts has four houses. We get sorted when we get there. My whole family is in Slytherin, so I'm going to be in there too, I bet. Slytherin is the best house, but everyone else hates us 'cause a lot of 'Evil' Wizards were Slytherins, but other houses have had bad wizards too.

"Well, the other houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Hufflepuff are renowned for being hard working and loyal, but some people say there a load of old duffers. Huffleduffers." Draco giggled, caught up in his storytelling.

"Then there is Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw are the clever ones, there obsessed with learning. Load of swots they are. And Gryffindor – that's where you'll probably be, your parents were – Gryffindor are meant to be brave and courageous, but they are also reckless, and don't think before they act and that's just silly." The words were coming quicker and quicker now as Draco warmed to his subject. "But my Godfather says we're all sorted too early, how can they know what suits us best when we're only eleven? And perhaps it is being in these houses that makes us this way, not vice versa. My Godfather is clever, but I don't know if he's right. Hogwarts has always been like that and…"

"Alright, Draco, that is enough now." Lucius said, smiling. "I'm sure Hagrid is waiting for you Harry and you haven't had your robes fitted yet. If you want to learn more then there are lots of books you can read. I recommend that you read all of these, at least." He handed a piece of parchment, with several names written on them. "If you don't mind, may I see how much money you have?"

"Oh sure." Harry handed over his moneybag, and whilst distracted by the booklist in his hand didn't notice Lucius surreptitiously adding more money into the bag.

"I expect that shall be sufficient money for the time being." He said, handing the bag back. "Now, make sure to buy yourself some day robes as well as your school robes, alright?" Lucius continued in a way that made Draco think he was channelling Narcissa. "And – Harry, are you listening? This is very important – no one may know of our meeting today, or that you are friends with each other, understand? You must pretend to hate each other, or you could jeopardise the safety of us all." Harry nodded gravely, looking at Lucius with wide eyes. "Alright then," Lucius smiled again. "Off you go, I'll try to contact you whilst you're at school, and check you're well. Now, go on. Be gone."

Harry left the waiting room, and re-entered the main body of the shop.

"Oh goodness!" Madam Malkin exclaimed. "Oh, oh dear. I'm so sorry. I completely forgot. So busy." Grabbing his hand she whisked him away and started measuring and pinning, snipping, cutting and altering until he had a nice pile of school robes. "Anything else dear?"

"Oh, um, I'd like some day robes please, and I need summer and winter cloaks… and anything else you think I might need ma'am."

Madam Malkin beamed at him. "Very well dear, would you like to choose the material for your robes?"

Harry followed her over to the collection of fabrics and watched as she started pulling them out, suggesting this shade and that pattern. Finally Harry chose his three favourites. One was a rich, shimmering silky green fabric, with swirling silver embroidery. The second was midnight blue velvet, dusted with silver and gold, looking very much like the night sky. His final choice was some turquoise, woven material, which looked as though it was made from a tropical sea.

Madam Malkin took the fabrics away and promised to have them sent to him when they were made up. She did a double take when she learnt that the owl was to be sent to Harry Potter, and her eyes flicked up to his hairline. Gathering together all the items that Harry was taking away with him, she neatly pushed them into a bag. With a swish of her wand she calculated the price of his purchases.

"That'll be… 82 Galleons, 16 Sickles and 10 Knuts please." Harry fished out several handfuls of money, and put them on the special pair of scales that weighed them to check the amount. He didn't realise just how much money it was that he was handing over, nor did he know that it wasn't even half of what Madam Malkin would normally charge.

Harry returned to the Leaky Cauldron where he found Hagrid deep in conversation with the barman. Leaving his bag of robes with the large man, Harry went off in search of his books, promising he would return to Hagrid as soon as he found them, to see if Hagrid was ready to go shopping together.

Harry stood in the musty shop, staring in awe at the tomes that filled the place. Some the size of tombstones and others as small as postage stamps. _Incredible._

"Can I help you?" Harry turned to see an assistant heading towards him. "You'll be wanting your school books I expect." The man said in a nasally voice.

"Yes," Harry said, sounding more confident than he felt. "I need _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1), A History of Magic, Magical Theory, A Beg_…"

"All of the Hogwart's First Year books, correct?" The assistant asked in a way that made him sound both annoyed and amused simultaneously. Harry nodded.

"I have some other books I would like as well."

The assistant looked at him appraisingly.

"You like to read? Knowledge is the key to success my boy. You'll go far." He nodded conspiratorially. "Perhaps you shall be in Ravenclaw, a successful path if ever there was one. Which books would you like?"

Harry pulled out his list and began to read. "I require _A Guide to Medieval Sorcery;_ I'm told it is a most interesting view of historical magic. Also _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Notable Magical Names of our Time_. If I am to join the wizarding world I think it would be best to know about its important figures, don't you agree?"

The assistant nodded excitedly, looking as though Christmas had come early, not realising that Harry was bluffing his way through the list. "May I also recommend the book _Modern Magical History_? It's a concise guide to the history of the magical world."

"Sure." Harry let the assistant gather the books he'd mentioned thus far, before returning to his list. "A copy of _The__ Dark Arts Outsmarted_, _A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions_ and… _Self-Defensive Spellwork_ please. Although… I wonder. Could I also have a copy of _Secrets of the Darkest Art_? What better way to defend against the Dark than to understand its power?"

The assistant beamed at him. "Quite true, quite true. I'd also recommend a couple of healthcare books, practicing defence can cause some mishaps." The assistant grabbed _The Healer's Helpmate, Jinxed, Cursed and Cured_ and a couple of other books from the medical section of the shop.

"I'd also like you to supply me with your best Quidditch book, an Herbal Grimoire, _Achievements in Charming_, um… _Numerology and Grammatica_… is there anything else you would recommend?"

Half an hour later Harry stumbled out of the shop, his moneybag considerably lighter, but lugging many heavy bags. On his way back to the Leaky Cauldron Harry spotted a shop selling magical containers and decided to take a quick look. His quick look ended with him parting ways with yet more money, as he found himself drawn to a rather elegant, mahogany trunk, which the assistant promised would be delivered to the Leaky Cauldron shortly. It wasn't until Harry was there that he realised he hadn't even looked at more than the exterior of the trunk, he'd just known he had to have it.

"Blimey, 'Arry!" Hagrid exclaimed, seeing the boy dragging his trunk into the pub. "I thought you was only buyin' yer school books?"

"I was, I kinda got sidetracked." Harry blushed and showed Hagrid the bags of books.

"Gulpin' Gargoyles! Buy the whole shop did yeh? Well now, I 'spect Tom'll let yeh leave all tha' in one o' his back rooms. Then we'll go buy th' rest o' yer stuff, alright?"

Harry readily agreed, and let Hagrid carry his stuff through to the back whilst Harry warned Tom that he had a trunk being delivered before long. When Hagrid returned to the bar he led Harry back into the alley.

"First things first lad." Hagrid began, as they walked along the alley. "Yeh need a wand, obviously. And the only place to get a wand – well no' the only place, bu' the best fer sure – is Ollivanders." Hagrid stopped outside the self same shop. It was a narrow, shabby building, with peeling gold letters that said _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC_. A single wand lay on a faded cushion in the window. Hagrid glanced at Harry. "Now, I know it don' look much, but as I said, is the best place fer yer wand. An' yeh can't not have a wand!"

Harry smiled. Hagrid was right, it didn't look much, but he could feel something coming from the shop; it was a feeling somewhat similar to when you place your hand near a flame, you can feel the power even from a slight distance. It was a strange feeling, but a nice feeling at the same time.

Taking the initiative, Harry walked inside, knowing that Hagrid would follow. As he entered he heard a tinkling bell ring. Hagrid sat down on the spindly chair, the only form of seating inside the small, musty room. Hagrid was obviously waiting for someone to come and serve them.

Harry suddenly realised he could feel that strange feeling, that power, again. This time it was more concentrated. He turned towards the source of the feeling.

"Hello." Harry said, in the direction he turned. Hagrid gave him a strange look and then jumped when someone replied.

"Ah, hello. You're quite impressive." Said a soft voice. An old man appeared from the gloom, his wide, bulbous eyes shining like moons. "Harry Potter." It was not a question. "I've been expecting you, but I didn't expect you to expect me too."

Hagrid looked confused, whilst Harry simply nodded.

"You have your mother's eyes dear boy. Your mother was quite the charms expert you know. And her wand reflected that of course. I remember her in here buying her wand; remember as if it was yesterday. Ten and a quarter inches, swishy, made of willow. Yes, good for charms."

Harry nodded and made a mental note. Obviously he would be able to learn something about his classmates' abilities by knowing about their wands.

"You're father however preferred mahogany, eleven inches and pliable. Superb for transfiguration you know. I say preferred, though really it's the wand that chooses the wizard." Harry nodded again, and then had a thought.

"Did you sell Voldemort his wand?" Hagrid flinched at the name, whilst Ollivander simply tilted his head to one side.

"Bright lad, aren't you?" He smiled. "Yes, I sold the Dark Lord his wand; though if I'd known what he'd go on to do with it… Thirteen and a half inches, made of yew, a very powerful wand. But enough of that business," Ollivander turned and looked at Hagrid.

"Rubeus, how good to see you. Sixteen inches, oak, rather bendy, am I right?"

Hagrid beamed and nodded.

"I suppose that they snapped it when they expelled you?" He added sternly.

"Er, yeah. But I still got the pieces." Harry grinned behind Ollivander's back, glancing down at Hagrid's pink umbrella.

"You don't use them though?" Ollivander asked sharply

"Oh, no sir. O' course not."

"Hmm…" Ollivander looked sceptical. "Well now Mister Potter, let me see. Which is your wand arm?" Harry lifted his right-hand automatically.

"Oh, um," He lowered his arm again. "That'd be the hand that I write with, yes?" Ollivander nodded, and Harry raised his arm once more. Ollivander pulled a silver tape measure out of his pocket, which promptly started taking numerous measurements of its own accord whilst Ollivander flitted around the room pulling boxes off shelves.

"Enough!" He snapped, and the tape measure fell to the floor with a clatter. "Here we are. Nine inches, beech wood and dragon heart string. Give it a wave."

Harry took the wand a raised it, only to have it snatched away immediately and replaced.

"Maple and phoenix feather, seven inches, quite whippy."

This time Harry didn't even have time to raise it.

"No, no, it's just not right… Here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy."

Harry had time to swish this one, but nothing happened.

"Hmm… I wonder." Ollivander studied Harry closely. "Close your eyes boy, and try to feel a wand. Like you felt me earlier."

Harry shrugged and closed his eyes, feeling nothing at first. Gradually he began to feel a warm hum. He could sense Hagrid on his left, and Ollivander in front of him. A soft buzz was coming from the walls of the room. Probably all the wands.

Searching the room Harry felt a strange pressure coming from the window, when he tried to feel it more it made his head hurt. Moving away he cast his mind into the back of the shop, and suddenly felt his concentration pulled towards a particular area. Keeping his eyes closed, Harry began to move. He could sense Ollivander following him as he went. Harry stopped. The pulsing sensation was almost unbearable.

Harry pointed, and felt Ollivander lift the box, and take the wand out. As he handed it to Harry, the younger wizard felt a thrill, as though he'd just found something vital that he hadn't even known he was missing. He opened his eyes and blinked as numerous colours swirled momentarily in front of his eyes.

"Is that your choice?" Ollivander asked softly. Harry looked down at the wand in his hand. "Eleven and a half inches, Holly and Phoenix feather, nice and supple." Ollivander stated, answering the unasked question. Harry lifted his hand and bought the wand down with a swish. White sparks erupted from the end, and Harry felt his insides fill with a mixture of warmth, power and completion. He gasped, it was incredible. Hagrid clapped wildly as Harry's white sparks flitted around the room, not dissipating in the slightest.

"Oh, very good, very good." Ollivander said. "How very curious." He took the wand and put it in its box, moving towards the counter. "Curious, curious."

"Sorry sir," Harry said graciously. "But what's curious?"

Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare. "What's curious my child… I remember every single wand I have ever sold. Every one. It just so happens that the phoenix who gave the feather for your wand also gave another. What is curious is that you should have that wand when its brother, why its brother gave you that scar. I believe we must expect great things from you, Mister Potter, after all the Dark Lord did great things, terrible, yes, but great."

As Harry paid the seven galleons for the wand, Ollivander lent over the counter and whispered to him. "That's some gift you have, boy. Not many can sense magic. Come see me again sometime, I'd be honoured if you let me teach you." Harry nodded and smiled.

"C'mon Hagrid." He said aloud, turning away. "What do we need to do next?"

Leaving the shop, the Alley seemed excessively bright. And yet, with his wand in hand (well, in pocket), it was also a lot less intimidating.

"We'll do th' Apothec'ry next, shall we?" Hagrid asked, crinkling his beetle black eyes at Harry as he smiled.

"Sure, what sort of things do they sell?"

"Oh, all sorts," Hagrid replied, leading Harry down the Alley. "Beetle eyes, dragon livers, all kinds of herbs…"

Harry let Hagrid deal with buying the potions ingredients from the apothecary, although he did grab an owl order form. Just in case. After that they went and bought his general school supplies, parchment, ink, quills. They bought the regular supplies, but Harry also managed to acquire a very attractive phoenix feather quill, as well as several different colours of ink. Harry managed to resist buying a solid gold cauldron upon remembering how soft and weak a metal gold truly is, settling with the pewter suggested on the list. He also bought a couple of nice sets of scales, and some collapsible brass telescopes.

"Well, now." Hagrid said, "That's everything on yer list. Well… except," He looked nervous. "I know yeh prob'ly 'ave never 'ad a proper birfday present, so I was thinking…"

"Oh Hagrid, thank you. But there really is no need."

"Nonsense." Hagrid replied gruffly. "Now, yeh don' 'ave a pet, do yeh? Ev'ryone wan's a pet." He stated knowledgably. "Yeh don' wan' a toad though. They wen' outta fashion years ago, yeh'll get laffed at. Nah not a toad. An' not a cat neither. I don't like cats, ah'm 'llergic to 'em. Make me sneeze they do. So, I'll getcha'n owl. All the kids want owls. Dead useful, they are. Carry yer post fer yeh, and can find anyone anywhere, s'long as they're 'live. Yeah, an owl…"

**

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**

**A/N:**The word count for this chapter, for those of you who are interested, is approximately 4935 words.

Next:  
Chapter Two: The Journey of the Hogwart's Express


	3. The Journey of the Hogwarts Express

**Story Title: Harry Potter and the Stone of Dreams**

**Chapter Title:** Chapter One: The Directional Day

**Author:** Bansera

**Beta: **Myself

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. JKR owns pretty much anything that you recognise. Trust me, there's no point in suing. The legal fees would be way more than you'd receive.

* * *

Chapter Two: The Journey of the Hogwarts Express

Harry didn't really enjoy his last month with the Dursley's. Granted, they weren't bullying and belittling him every time he came within hearing range. Half terrified, half furious they simply acted as though he did not exist. It was an improvement in some ways, but it did get a bit depressing after a few days.

Half way through the month, Harry decided he really ought to do something useful. His bags of shopping from the trip to Diagon Alley were all still dumped next to his trunk. He'd been so tired when he'd got back to Number 4, Privet Drive that he had simply chucked them on the floor and gone to sleep, he barely even remembered it happening.

Harry now went over to his trunk and tried to lift the lid, to no avail. He sat back on his heels and stared at it curiously. _I wonder._ Closing his eyes Harry concentrated on the trunk, and noticed a strong sensation coming from the middle-front of the trunk. Opening his eyes Harry looked at the silver inlay on the highly inlay on the front of the trunk, where a lock might have been, had a row of numbers inscribed. He ran his finger along the row, and jumped back as the lid of the trunk opened at his touch. The interior of the trunk was a deep mustard yellow, cushioned slightly and… Harry stared in confusion. It was most definitely bigger inside than out. _Ah well, that's magic. I guess I'll have to get used to it!_

Harry grabbed the first bag, the one full of his clothes. Carefully, one at a time, he pulled out his school robes, everyday robes (which had arrived earlier that day, much to Uncle Vernon's very loud displeasure) and cloaks from the bag, and folded them up into his trunk. Standing up he went to where his Muggle clothes were kept, and packed them into the compartment alongside the Wizard clothes. Taking note that the number he had pressed was number two of five (he could tell because there was a very slight glow to that number), Harry carefully closed the lid.

Next he pressed the silver number one and watched as the lid once more popped open. The trunk was empty again, it's interior no longer yellow velvet, but a deep, blood red. Harry touched the two and watched as the yellow interior and his clothes reappeared; he hadn't even had to close the trunk. He grinned. Placing his finger back on the number one he allowed the red compartment to reappear. In this one he only put his dragon hide gloves, his phoenix feather quill and all his coloured inks. _I can add more later._

Harry then touched the number three, watching as the red interior and its belongings faded away, and the trunk became a deep blue. He carefully loaded the school books into this compartment, stacking them neatly according to their subject. As he had with the clothes for the yellow compartment, Harry now stood and collected any bits of paper or pens that he had scattered around his room. He knew he had parchment and quills, but one could never be too careful. Harry also placed the rest of his school supplies in this trunk: scales, cauldron, telescope, quills and parchment, inks, and the ingredients from the apothecary. All the owl order forms and his non-school books were loaded into the fourth compartment, which was a deep green.

Harry closed the trunk, having unpacked everything. Sitting back on his heels again he looked at his trunk, admiring its unique craftsmanship. Suddenly he remembered that there was another compartment he hadn't looked at. He leant forwards and was about to touch the number five when Dudley burst in.

"Hey, fre… What's that?" The large boy asked, blinking stupidly.

"Yes Dudley?" Harry asked, ignoring his cousin's question.

"Mum said you have to come for tea now. What's that?"

"That, dear cousin, is a trunk. Tell Aunt Petunia I'm on my way."

"Tell her yourself." Dudley replied, walking over. He pushed Harry out of the way and tried to pull open the lid of the trunk.

"It doesn't open like that." Harry said faintly amused. Dudley glared, running his fingers around the ridge of the lid. Harry gasped as Dudley's fingers brushed over the numbers and… Nothing happened.

"Hmph." Dudley grunted sulkily after a few minutes of nothing happening. "Freak. If you don't come down now I'm eating your food." And promptly left the room.

Harry spent most of the rest of the holidays in his room. Leaving only to eat or use the bathroom. He'd occupied himself by reading through his school books. _Can't hurt to get ahead. _They were very interesting, and Harry wished he'd bought more extra books than the ones he had! He even named his owl Hedwig, a name he came across in one of the books. He only wished he was allowed to use his wand, so that he could put all this theory into practice. Nevertheless he was pleased with his progress and confident that he would be as knowledgeable as any of his classmates.

Harry had always been somewhat of an overachiever. He had been getting the best marks in the class, but Uncle Vernon realised that his Dudders was being surpassed by "that boy" and went to have words with the teachers. Three hours later after much bellowing from the school office the harassed head teacher agreed to look into it, and from then on Dudley's grades were always ahead of Harry's.

Apparently Vernon had claimed that Harry was swapping the work, even that done in the lessons, so that he could make Dudley look bad. Harry thought Dudley could manage to look bad without his help, but wisely kept quiet about it. And the idea of swapping homework was ridiculous as Harry did both his and Dudley's homework anyway. Plus he did extra reading, teaching himself, as he could guarantee that the flustered teachers would avoid making an effort to help him. Not that he minded. He rather enjoyed learning things his own way. He felt it made it more memorable.

Since finding out about Hogwarts and meeting Draco, Harry had become even more frenzied in his studying. It was apparent that compared to Draco he had as much knowledge of the world as a cat has knowledge of flying a rocket to the moon!

Harry had developed a severe dislike for appearing to be unintelligent, and this coupled with the extraordinary desire to impress his new friend had fuelled his knowledge craving.

It had been quite disconcerting to discover when he opened up _Modern Magical History_ that most of the book was dedicated to the rise of the latest Dark Lord, and a rather large proportion of that was about himself. Through reading the books he discovered more about his family than he could ever need to know. His father was apparently a daring chaser whilst at Hogwarts. He and Lily had lived off the money that had been left to James in his inheritance, although speculation suggested that James would have gone into Quidditch or become an auror when Harry had left for Hogwarts. Lily, it was said, would most likely have gone into charms or potions research, or perhaps even teaching.

Both of Harry's parents were in Gryffindor, and, according to the history books had fallen in love at first sight. Harry was slightly sceptical of this, he wasn't sure that he believed in love at first sight.

Finally the summer holidays were drawing to a close. On the last day of August Harry thought he best ask his aunt and uncle about getting to King's Cross the next day, so he went down to the living-room where they were watching a quiz show.

"Uncle Vernon?"

The large man grunted to acknowledge that he was listening.

"I was wondering if you would be able to take me to King's Cross tomorrow. To get to Hogwarts."

He grunted again, which Harry took to mean agreement. As Harry turned to return to the book he'd been reading Uncle Vernon spoke up.

"Do all the carpets have punctures?"

"Um…" Harry scrunched his nose in confusion. "Pardon?"

Uncle Vernon glared at him. "The flying carpets. Do they have punctures?" Harry kept quiet and looked at the floor. "Where is this school anyway?"

"I'm not sure," Harry said. "Scotland somewhere I think…" he pulled the ticket out of his pocket and had a look. "Apparently I just have to take the train from platform nine-and-three-quarters at 11 o' clock."

Vernon's flabby forehead crinkled and his eyebrows shot up to meet his receding hairline. "Nine-and-three-quarters." He repeated.

Harry nodded. "That's what it says."

"Right." Vernon turned his piggy eyes back to the television. "Alright, we'll take you. We're going up to London anyway, or I wouldn't bother."

"Why are you going to London?" Harry asked, trying to keep things friendly.

"Got to have that ruddy tail removed before Dudley goes to Smeltings."

Harry wisely decided to end the conversation there, but couldn't stop a giggle escaping before he disappeared upstairs.

* * *

Harry woke at 5 o' clock the next morning, far too excited to sleep. Pulling on his jeans (he didn't think the Dursley's would appreciate him wearing his robes in public) he decided that he would cook the Dursley's breakfast, but first he checked and double-checked his trunk to ensure that he had everything and anything that he may need for the term.

By the time he had convinced himself that there wasn't a single other thing he may need it was 6 'o clock and he rushed down to start cooking breakfast. The sizzle of sausages combined with the smell of bacon and juicy tomatoes soon roused the other inhabitants of the household who, despite eyeing their plates suspiciously, ate the food without complaint. Though none of them thanked him, or acknowledged the effort he'd put in to it.

When 7 o' clock arrived Uncle Vernon grudgingly helped to load Harry's trunk into the boot of the car (Harry kept Hedwig's cage on his lap), and Aunt Petunia had managed to persuade Dudley that Harry was safe to sit next to – or at least as safe as he had always been.

They reached King's Cross at half past ten, and much to Harry's puzzlement Uncle Vernon helped him to load the trunk and Hedwig onto a trolley and kindly wheeled it through the station for him. It was when they neared the platform that he realised why his Uncle was acting so friendly.

"Here you go boy," He smirked and pointed, "Platform nine. Platform ten. It appears that they forgot to build your platform." He grinned wickedly and turned away, calling over his shoulder. "Enjoy your new school."

Harry panicked. He was stuck in London, no idea where he was going, and his train was leaving in… twenty minutes! A guard passed and Harry eyed him speculatively. _Better not, he'll think I'm insane!_

Harry looked around carefully, and then walked towards the platform barrier, pushing his trolley carefully so as not to upset Hedwig. He closed his eyes and concentrated. There was something there! Faint but distinct. He eyed the barrier speculatively, but before he could do anything a plump woman with flaming red hair and a gaggle of children approached him.

"You alright there dear?" She asked kindly, looking pointedly at his trunk, and tilting her head towards one of her sons who was holding an owl in a cage.

"Oh, yes thank you ma'am." Harry smiled graciously. "But I was wondering if you could tell me…?"

"How to get onto the platform?" Harry nodded. "Oh its easy dear, here watch Percy." The oldest boy smiled curtly at him, his horn-rimmed glasses flashing importantly. Puffing out his chest he walked up to the barrier and disappeared. Harry gasped, his jaw dropping, still none the wiser as to how the platform worked. The kindly woman laughed gently. "Alright dear? Don't worry. How about you go through with Fred, and George will help me bring the trunks through afterwards?" She nodded towards two more boys, twins, who appeared to be the next oldest.

"May I?" Said one of them, approaching and offering Harry his arm as though offering to escort a lady.

"Fred!" The woman admonished, but stopped when Harry smirked at him and accepted. Fred started to lead Harry towards the barrier, shifting closer when he felt Harry tense.

"Don't worry." He said quietly, "You won't feel a thing; it's just like walking through an archway. If you like you can close your eyes." Harry nodded and Fred smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry; I'll be here with you the whole time." He said teasingly.

Harry closed his eyes, leaning into the warmth of the twin's body, and let himself be led through the barrier.

"Here we are!" Fred exclaimed happy, although he didn't attempt to release his arm. Harry opened his eyes and stared in wonder at the bright red train in front of him. Steam was bellowing out of its chimney, clouding the air.

"You alright there, ladies?" A voice asked, and Fred and Harry turned to see George approaching, somehow managing to control all three trolleys at once. Harry moved forwards, freeing Fred's arm in the process.

"Thank you." He said as he took the trolley containing his trunk. He pushed his fingers into Hedwig's cage and petted her gently. Noticing that the twins were busy conversing rapidly under their breath, he turned and walked towards the train, pulling his trolley with him hoping to find an empty carriage, or catch a glimpse of Draco.

When he eventually found an empty carriage near the back of the train he placed Hedwig's cage inside on one of the seats, and then shoved at his trunk in an unsuccessful attempt to get it into the carriage.

"Want a hand?" Harry turned and saw George standing watching him. _Strange, I know which is which…_

"Oh yes, please." Harry panted.

"Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!"

With the twins help, Harry's trunk was at last tucked away into the compartment.

"Thanks so much!" Harry said, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. The twins stared at him, looked at each other and stared again.

"Blimey!" Said Fred, unconsciously rubbing his arm, "Are you – ?"

"He is," replied George. "Aren't you?"

"What?" Said Harry nervously.

"Harry Potter!" They said together.

"Oh him, well… yeah. I am." He was even more nervous now, what if they decided they didn't like him, that he wasn't good enough to be The-Boy-Who-Lived…

Fred obviously noticed his discomfort because he grinned widely and said "That is _so_ cool!" George nodded in agreement.

At that moment their mother's voice floated through the air, calling the twins to her. They hopped off the train and disappeared, and Harry could hear them excitedly telling their mother who they'd just met. He also learnt that the oldest boy – Percy – was now a prefect (and proud!), the fourth boy Ron was just starting and had a black smudge on his nose, and the little girl, Ginny, wanted to come and "goggle" at him. At that moment the whistle blew, the mother ushered them all onto the train, Ginny began to cry and the twins – much to the mother's dismay – promised to send their sister a Hogwarts toilet seat.

The train started to move and Harry felt a flash of excitement. He didn't know where he was going to – but it had to be better than what he was leaving behind.

The door to the compartment slid open and the youngest redheaded boy came in.

"Anyone sitting there?" He asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry "Everywhere else is full."

Harry gestured to the boy to sit, and watched out of the corner of his eyes as he stared at him, then – realising what he'd being doing – stared out of the window. Moments later the door slid open again.

"Hey Ron." The twins were back. "Listen, we're going down the middle of the train – Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula!"

"Right," Ron said, shuddering almost imperceptibly.

"Harry," Said Fred, turning to him. "did we introduce ourselves? I'm Fred, this is George, Weasley. And this is our brother Ron. Little Ronniekins is in your year. See you later then."

"Bye." Said Harry and Ron, as the twins slid back out of the compartment.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted.

Harry nodded.

"Oh. I thought it might have been one of the twins' jokes. They do that a lot. And have you… have you really got…?" He pointed in the general direction of Harry's forehead, Harry pulled back his fringe and Ron gaped at the scar. "So that's where You-Know-Who-?"

"Yes," Said Harry, "but I can't remember anything about it."

"Nothing?"

"Well… I remember a lot of green light, but that's it."

Ron went silent again, staring at Harry, and then rapidly staring back out of the window.

"Are all your family wizards?" Harry asked, as interested in Ron as Ron was in him.

"Yeah, I think so."

"So you must know loads about magic already, right?"

"Yeah, kinda. I heard you went to live with Muggles, what are they like?"

"Oh, well most Muggles are alright. Just like wizards without the magic I suppose. The people I lived with were awful though."

"Why?" Asked Ron, curiously.

Harry sighed. "They were pretty horrible sometimes. I had to do all the cooking and cleaning. My cousin bullied me. I think they all hated me. I never had any money..." Harry stopped, realising that he sounded quite self-deprecating. "It wasn't all bad. I spent most of my time studying because it was the only thing they'd let me do. I like studying, I know that's very un-cool…"

"Nah, its not. Just don't expect me to spend every day in the library with you!" Ron laughed. "Not that I expect you to spend everyday with me I mean –"

"Its fine!" Harry said, laughing too, "So tell me a bit about yourself. It must be so great to have three wizarding brothers!"

"Five actually." Ron said gloomily. "I'm the sixth. Bill and Charlie have already left." He sighed. "I have a lot to live up to. Bill was head boy, Charlie was Quidditch Captain. Now Percy is a prefect. The twins mess around a lot, but everyone likes them. Everyone expects me to do just as well, but even if I do it won't be a big deal, because they did it first. I never get anything new either. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand and Percy's old rat." Reaching inside his robes Ron pulled out said rat, which was snoring gently. "His name's Scabbers and he's useless. Always asleep. Percy got an owl for being made prefect, but they couldn't aff-" He stopped suddenly, blushed, and stared out of the window.

"There's nothing wrong with not being able to afford things." Harry said reassuringly. "I used to have to wear my cousin's old clothes, the fat pig is like five times the size of me so I looked awful! And I never got any birthday presents either. I didn't even know I was a wizard until Hagrid told me, didn't know about Voldemort-"

Ron gasped and Harry gave him a strange look.

"What?"

"You said his name!"

"Yeah… I kinda never knew you shouldn't. I'm not trying to be brave or anything. See, I have loads to learn." Harry said, disheartened.

Ron snorted. "From the sounds of it you will have read all the books already," A sheepish smile from Harry showed that Ron had guessed correctly "You probably know more than me by now!"

Whilst they had been talking the train had left London, and they were now speeding past fields of cows and sheep. They were quiet for a time, watching the countryside pass them by.

Around half past twelve the door slid open and a dimpled woman entered. "Anything off the trolley, dears?" Ron slid down in his seat and muttered something indistinct. Harry looked at him with an unreadable look on his face, before following the witch into the corridor.

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed, when Harry re-entered laden with sweets. "Hungry?"

"A bit." Harry shrugged. "I guess I got a bit sugar happy. Someone will have to help me eat it all." He shot a sly look at Ron.

"I have sandwiches." Ron said, sounding angry in a half-hearted way.

"Hey!" Harry said indignantly. "I've never had anyone to share with and I'd like to share with you." Ron muttered something under his breath and Harry glared. "I don't do pity and I don't do charity. I'm just trying to be nice." He took a deep breath to calm himself down. "What are these?" He asked, holding up a packet of chocolate frogs.

* * *

A knock on the door announced the arrival of a teary-eyed, round faced boy.

"'Scuse me." He said. "Have you seen a toad at all?" They both shook their heads and the boy wailed, "I've lost him."

Harry stood up, and pulled the boy into the seat beside him. Pressing a chocolate frog into his hand he said, "Don't worry, he'll turn up."

The boy sniffled. "Thanks." Harry smiled encouragingly.

"I'm Harry, this is Ron."

"Neville Longbottom." The boy said with a shy smile. "I'll just go find my toad." He stood and shuffled out of the door, looking slightly happier than he had when he'd entered.

"Dunno why he's bothering." Ron said. "If I'd bought a toad I would lose it as quickly as I could. Mind you I bought Scabbers so I can't talk." He looked down at said rat and sighed. "He might've died and you wouldn't know the difference." Ron said disgustedly. 'I tried to turn him yellow, but it didn't work. I'll show you…"

He rummaged in his trunk and pulled out a battered wand.

"Unicorn's hair is poking out. Anyway –"

The door slid open again. Neville was back, accompanied by a girl in Hogwarts robes.

"Have you seen a toad?" She asked. "Neville's lost one." She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth.

"Still looking Neville?" Harry asked kindly, smiling at the boy.

The girl wasn't listening; she was looking at the wand in Ron's hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see then."

Ron looked taken aback, but cleared his throat and recited a rather poetic spell whilst waving his wand wildly. Nothing happened.

"Are you sure that's a real spell? It's not very good is it. I tried a few and they all worked for me, I was so impressed. I'm Muggle-born and didn't know magic existed until I got my Hogwarts letter."

"Try this." Harry said, interrupting the girl when he noticed the slightly scared looks on the other boys' faces. "_Rattus Crocus_."

Ron shrugged, pointed his wand at Scabbers and repeated the words. Scabbers turned bright yellow, squeaked loudly, and faded back to grey.

"It worked!" Ron cried happily, whilst the girl looked gob smacked.

"Well done mate." Harry said.

"Yes well." The girl sounded very put out. "I'm Hermione Granger. Apparently you know Neville Longbottom." This time it was Ron who grinned at the mousy boy. "And you are?"

"Ron Weasley." Ron said, in a very self-important manner, obviously very pleased with himself after his successful spell casting.

Harry shook his head at his new friend's antics. "Harry Potter." Hermione who had been glaring at Ron whipped her head round to face Harry at his pronouncement.

"Really?" She asked excitedly, "Ooh, I've read so much about you! You're in –"

"I know." He said coolly. "I do read. Although I find the majority of the information to be highly erroneous."

"Yes…" Hermione said, apparently taken aback that a book could be wrong. "Well, we'd better go look for Neville's toad. You might want to get changed. I expect we'll be there soon."

With that she and Neville left, Neville waved over his shoulder as they turned down the corridor.

"Merlin, I hope she's not in the same house as me." Ron sighed. "Thanks for your help, by the way. How did you know it would work?"

"I didn't." Harry replied. Ron raised an eyebrow.

"You expect me to believe that you just guessed at some words and they just happened to work?"

"Well… when you put it that way…" Ron swapped eyebrows rather comically and Harry snorted. "I can apparently feel magic, and when you did the spell that the twins taught you the wand knew what you wanted and was trying. I could feel that. And I could sense why it wasn't working and it's like…" Harry searched around for the words. "It's kinda like the wand, or the magic maybe, _told_ me how to do it. So I told you."

"Wow!" Ron sounded genuinely impressed. "That is _so_ cool! I'm totally going to sit next to you for every class! Ah, I mean, if you want to 'cause I don't want to, um…"

"That's fine." Harry said smiling reassuringly. "I'd like that."

Ron grinned. "You'd like my brother, Bill. He's a curse breaker for Gringotts, knows all about magical oddities. Not that I'm saying your odd." He added quickly. "Just that he may be able to help you with your talent."

"A curse breaker? That is so cool!" Harry exclaimed. "And your other brother – Charlie? – what does he do?"

"Charlie works with Dragons in Romania. He –"

Ron stopped abruptly as the door slid open revealing not Neville nor Hermione, but a blond haired boy flanked by two goons. _Draco!_

Harry began to smile, but caught himself, remembering Lucius' words of warnings. He still managed to catch Draco's eyes, and hoped that he had adequately displayed his pleasure at seeing him.

"You're Draco Malfoy." Ron sneered, and Harry was shocked at the malice in his voice. Draco turned to the redhead, his lip curling with disdain.

"And you, no doubt, are a Weasley. Of course you are. Who else would have that shade of red growing from their follicles? Who else would wear such atrocious hand-me-downs?" Draco flicked a glance at Harry. _This is your chance, build the enmity._

Harry stood up and shoved into Draco's personal space. "Back off, Malfoy. I don't know what your problem is –" He felt Draco's hand flick into his pocket, deposit something and leave again. "- but I want nothing to do with your petty squabbles."

Draco sneered, but Harry could see the pride in his eyes, he was obviously impressed by the performance. "You'll soon find out some Wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." Draco held out his hand.

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks." Harry replied coolly, concentrating on projecting positive feelings at the blond to reassure him that he wasn't serious. He noticed Draco's eyes widen slightly in surprise, a feeling he felt too, when the wave of positive emotion struck him.

"Well, if you're going to hang around with riff-raff. Oh, going to fight us now?" Draco said, as Ron stood up sharply. Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles menacingly, and Harry surreptitiously manoeuvred himself in front of Ron.

"I think you need to leave." Harry said calmly. He did not want to have to fight with Draco. The blond sneered again, and stepped backwards towards the door. At the same time, and completely of his own accord, Goyle reached forwards to grab some sweets, and before anyone could stop him he let out a horrible yell.

As the large boy pulled his hand back the reason for his distress became apparent. There, dangling from his finger, was Scabbers, whose teeth were embedded in Goyle's skin. Swinging his hand round he eventually managed to dislodge the grey rat, promptly throwing him at the window. The three then made a swift exit, and a second later Hermione Granger re-entered the compartment.

"What has been going on in here?" She said, surveying the mess of sweets covering the carriage floor.

"I think he's been knocked out," Ron said, holding up Scabbers worriedly. "Oh wait, no, I can't believe it. He's gone back to sleep."

"So who is this Malfoy guy?" Harry asked. It seemed like an obvious question considering he'd supposedly never met Draco.

"I've heard of his family," said Ron darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who had disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He said Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." He turned to Hermione. "Can we help you with something?"

The bushy haired girl tutted. "Have you been fighting already? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!" Harry put a calming hand on Ron's shoulder, before he retaliated, and merely looked pointedly at Hermione. She sighed "I've just been to see the driver. He said we'd be there soon, so you might want to get your robes on."

"Thank you." Said Harry. "If you could possibly er… Would you mind very much leaving whilst we change?"

Hermione sniffed again. "Fine. See you when we get there."

Harry smiled at her as she left, Ron merely grumbled. Looking out the window Harry noticed they were slowing down, so he and Ron changed quickly. Harry noticed that Ron's robes were slightly too short for him, and showed his trainers.

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be arriving in five minutes. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately."

Harry's stomach lurched with nerves. The confident façade that he'd portrayed to impress Ron crumbled irreparably. He glanced at the red-head and noticed that he was milky-white beneath all his freckles.

The two boys pushed their ways through the carriage, and out onto the platform. Harry shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students and Harry heard a familiar voice. "Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here! All right there, Harry? C'mon follow me, mind yer step."

The first years slipped and stumbled down a steep narrow path as they followed Hagrid. Nobody spoke much, although Neville sniffed once or twice. Harry moved himself and Ron towards the round-faced boy, and Harry smiled at him.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder. "Jus' round this bend here."

A loud 'Oooooh!' accompanied the turning of a corner where the path opened suddenly to the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a mountain on the other side, its many windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid shouted, pointing to a small fleet sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and Ron were followed into theirs by Neville and – to Ron's disgust – Hermione. At Hagrid's command the whole fleet rocked slightly and began gliding across the water. Everyone was silent as they watched the castle approach. The inhabitants of the boats all ducked as they went under an overhang covered in ivy that hid an entrance in the cliff face.

When everyone had clambered out of the boats Hagrid quickly checked to make sure no-one had left anything. Much to Neville's delight his toad Trevor turned up in the bottom of one of the boats. They then all clambered through a stone passageway, up a flight of steps and crowded around a huge oak door.

"Evr'yone here? Still got yer toad?"

Hagrid raised his gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

* * *

**A/N:**Word count for this chapter ~5310 words.

Next: Chapter Three: By Luck or Judgement


	4. By Luck or Judgement

**Story Title: Harry Potter and the Stone of Dreams**

**Chapter Title:** Chapter Three: By Luck or Judgement

**Author: **Bansera

**Beta:** Myself

**Disclaimer: **If you recognise it, it's probably JKRs. If you don't, it's probably mine. There is a comment in Harry's observations of Hufflepuff which is unashamedly borrowed for the pilot episode of Being Human, that does not belong to me either. Oh and actually whilst re-reading I came across a slightly FotR moment, but blink and you'll miss it.

**A/N: **This is quite important, to all those who are worried about the warned slash and how it might relate to Harry... I already have several possible pairings and a few probable pairings, and it is very likely that Harry will end up in a slash relationship. Now for those of you who now no longer want anything to do with this story... well that is your choice, you are free to stop reading, I can't control you. However, as I have said previously relationships aren't going to come into the story until they are much older, so I hope that you will stick with the story at least for this first one. Even when the relationships do come into the story more, I'm not really one for writing explicit love scenes (usually) so... Also, bear in mind there may be relationships of older characters mentioned earlier in the storyline than the younger characters (if that makes any sense at all).

It has been mentioned that Harry is being treated, at times, far older than his years. My beta was the one that originally pointed this out, but once I'd explained my reasoning to her she was more than happy to accept it. And believe me when I say she wouldn't let me get away with it without a good reason. So please trust us, stick with the story and enjoy! (**A/N2: **This comment is in response to comments made before I rewrote the previous chapters. Since then, some things have been edited slightly, so perhaps this isn't quite relevant, I've left it in just in case, though!)

* * *

**Chapter Three: By Luck or Judgement**

The large door swung open immediately, revealing a rather stern-looking witch wearing emerald-green robes and with her hair in a tight bun.

"Thank you Hagrid. I will take the first years from here."

"Aye, Professor McGonagall."

The Professor pulled the door wide open, revealing an enormous entrance hall that Harry noticed could likely fit the Dursley's house several times. Flaming torches lit the stone walls, the ceiling was far too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase opposite them led to the upper floors.

McGonagall led the students across the flagstone floor. They passed a door behind which could be heard the drone of many voices, obviously the rest of the school was in there. The Professor took them into an antechamber close by and turned to address them.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." She said, with what could almost be called a hint of a smile. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before this you will be sorted into your houses. Your house will be your family whilst at Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend time in your house common room.

"The four houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history, and each is as worthy as the other. Whilst at Hogwarts your triumphs will own your house points, while any rule breaking will lose points. At the end of the year the house with the most points will receive the House Cup. A great honour.

"I hope that each of you will be a credit to whichever house is lucky enough to have you join. The Sorting will take place in a few minutes. I suggest you all take a moment to smarten yourselves." Her eyes lingered on a smudge on Ron's nose, and Neville's cloak which was fastened under his left ear, then she left the room.

"How do they sort us?" Harry asked, looking at Ron. Ron merely shrugged, apparently far too nervous to speak. Harry sympathized with him and turned away, helping Neville with his cloak whilst Ron recuperated. No-one else was talking very much, except for Hermione Granger who was whispering rapidly about all the spells she had learnt and wondering which she might need.

Suddenly several people at the back of the group screamed. Harry jumped, and spun to face the commotion. He gasped, as did the people around him. There, coming through the walls, were a group of pearly white, transparent people. They seemed to be arguing about someone called "Peeves" and took a moment to notice the first years. When they did they smiled kindly and made conversation until McGonagall re-entered, sharply instructing the students to follow her.

Feeling as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into a line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Ron behind him. They walked out of the chamber, across the hall, and through the door they had passed earlier.

Many of those with him gasped as they entered the hall. It was an awe inspiring place; candles floated in their hundreds, twinkling gold, above four long tables. Each table was crowded with black-robed students, splashes of red, yellow, blue and green dashed down each table. All the students were whispering amongst each other as they watched the new first years walk towards a fifth table, the Head Table, at which all the teachers were sat.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside." Harry heard Hermione whisper. He knew she was referring to the ceiling, he too had read _Hogwarts: A History_ that past summer. And yet the descriptions from the book were nothing compared to the view that greeted him when he turned his eyes skyward. Above him was a deep purple-black sky, studded with twinkling stars; it seemed as though tendrils of heaven curled through the roof of the room and entwined it in its magic.

Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. Atop of this stool she placed a rather tattered old hat which – Harry imagined – would give Aunt Petunia palpitations if she saw it near her house.

Suddenly a tear in the hat opened, making Harry start, and the hat began to sing:

"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you can see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor

Where dwell the brave of heart,

Their daring, nerve and chivalry

Set Gryffindor apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folks use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hand (though I have none)

For I'm a thinking cap!"

The hall burst into applause as the hat finished. It bowed to all four tables before becoming quite still again.

Harry looked at each of the tables before him. The students on the far left table wore red edges on their robes, the Weasley's amongst them, which told Harry it was the Gryffindor table.

Next to them were the students in blue edged robes, most of whom were watching the new first years with curiosity, an aura of wiseness rose of the table, obviously these were the ready minded Ravenclaws.

The third table consisted of many happily smiling faces in yellow edged robes. They gave the impression that they would love to be bouncing around and hugging people. Hufflepuffs, he assumed, as he doubted Slytherins would have such a happy-go-lucky feeling to them. And these students did seem to give him the impression of spending their spare time making things with safety scissors and glitter.

The last table had a heavy stillness around it, a strong contrast to the jolliness of Hufflepuff. These, the Slytherins, wore green edged robes. All sat perfectly upright, their faces a blank mask although Harry could sense and attentiveness coming from them. Something about them suggested that they weren't as uptight as they appeared, that it was simply a façade the portrayed to the rest of the world.

Harry's attention moved away from his analysis of the houses as McGonagall moved forwards and began reading names from a scroll. As each person was called they made their way to the stool and placed the hat on their heads. Some sat for mere seconds, whilst others were there much longer. The hat would then announce the house into which the student would be placed.

Harry stifled a snicker as Ron groaned at Hermione being sorted into Gryffindor. Neville too was sorted into the Lion's den, and Harry smiled as Neville looked back at him before following Hermione's path to the table.

Harry watched intently as Draco sat on the stool with the hat on his head. Harry was somewhat surprised by the length of time it took Draco to be sorted, it was by no means the longest time taken, but as Draco had been so adamant that he would be joining Slytherin Harry had expected him to be placed there instantaneously.

When it came to Harry's turn to be sorted the hall fell silent as his name was called. Harry glanced nervously at Draco for a split second, before shifting his gaze to Fred Weasley, who smiled reassuringly and gave him a thumbs up as the hat fell across his eyes.

"Ah, Harry Potter." A small voice inside his head said. "I wondered when I would be meeting _you_. It is a pleasure to have the privilege of Sorting you."

"The privilege is all mine." Harry replied mentally with no little nervousness, causing the hat to chuckle.

"Why, aren't you an interesting one. And your _mind_! It has been long since I've known a mind like this! I must say I feel you belong not in any single house here!"

Harry tensed at that. He didn't belong? Did that mean they would send him back to the Dursley's?

"Apologies. That was not what I meant exactly." The Hat said, at Harry's response. "Allow me to explain myself.

"If we look at your experiences of even only today, perhaps you will understand better. When you saw your friend Draco on the train it took a lot of Slytherin cunning to act as though you could not stand him. It also took a lot of Hufflepuff loyalty to both of your new friends to stand between them and prevent both from fighting.

"Your intriguing powers of magic sensing are a gift that will greatly increase your knowledge, thus giving you a Ravenclaw side, which is compounded by your thirst for knowledge, although that also ties into your Slytherin side.

"That leaves your parent's house. The house where everyone expects you to be. And my wouldn't that suit you, so much courage, so much bravery! And so now you understand my predicament. I fear I cannot place you in one single house for fear of quashing the breadth of your mind. But I cannot simply place you in 'Hogwarts', houseless, for to do such a thing would be to reveal your uniqueness and, I fear, would cause far too much trouble…

"However, I feel I can trust you to develop the house traits of all the houses not simply the one in which I place you. So, to choose a house!

"Obviously Slytherin is not a choice we can make if we are to maintain the pretence of your hatred for them. I think you would do best placed with your newly made friends… though I do hope you will befriend all the houses!" The Hat admonished. "Anyhow, I think I can safely say I'm going to put you in GRYFFINDOR."

Harry knew the Hat had said the last word out loud, and began to remove the Hat when the voice returned momentarily.

"I do hope you will visit me, young Mr Potter, your mind is far more interesting than sitting around in a cupboard all year!"

Harry laughed aloud and removed the hat, to be greeted by strange looks from the rest of the school. He placed the Hat back on the stool, nodded at the students, and headed to the Gryffindor table, which instantly erupted into loud cheering.

Fred and George jumped up at his arrival and promptly started bowing frantically. Fred then grabbed Harry in a hug.

"Nice of you to join us, your highness." He laughed cheekily, much to the amusement of most of the rest of the Gryffindors. "We need to talk later I think." He added under his breath.

Harry nodded. "Thanks." He said, squeezing Fred as his trembling nervousness dissipated. It was obvious that Fred had seen his shakiness, and was simply helping the younger boy to remain upright.

Fred smiled, and George grabbed Harry's arm propelling him away. "Go sit with your fellow firsties, little monster. I think one of them rather likes you!" George grinned. Harry smirked in reply and sat beside Neville.

"Thank you." McGonagall said, sounding disapproving, although a smile played about her lips.

Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors quited down at that, and sat semi-calmly to watch the last of the sorting. Harry joined in the cheering as each Gryffindor was sorted, although he also clapped politely when a student was sorted into any of the other houses, even the Slytherins, which though suprising to the others at first, was soon supported by them. His cheering was extra loud when a very nervous Ron was sorted into Gryffindor. He beckoned the red head into the seat beside him and they shared a happy grin.

As the sorting finished Harry heard Ron's stomach grumbling beside him, and realised just how hungry he himself was. At that moment the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, stood and smiled happily at the students assembled before him.

"Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!" He opened his arms in an encompassing gesture. "Before we begin our banquet I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you."

He sat back down. Everyone clapped and cheered. Harry cocked his head.

"Is he a bit mad?" He asked Percy somewhat uncertainly.

"Mad?" Percy replied airily. "He's a genius! But yes, he is a bit mad. Potatoes?"

Harry blinked. Where had been empty plates there were now mounds of food. Piles of steak, roast beef, pork, chicken, rabbit and lamb, even nut roast for the vegetarians. There were mountains of potatoes – mashed, boiled, roast, sautéed, everything you could imagine. Harry watched as the sandy haired boy – Seamus – piled several fat little chipolatas onto his plate, before choosing a sauce. It was quite a choice – gravy, ketchup, white sauces… Not even the Christmas meals Harry had seen were as extravagant as this! It all looked wonderful, but Harry couldn't quite understand why there were bowls of humbugs amongst the rest.

"That does look good." A nearby ghost wearing a ruff said sadly as he watched Harry cut into his steak.

"Can't you…?"

"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years." He responded. "Not that I need to, but one does miss it."

Harry nodded sympathetically, then smiled as a thought struck him. "Could I try something?"

"I don't think so, boy." He replied distrustfully.

"Please." Harry asked, with a look in his eyes that made most around him want to give him anything he asked for.

"What?"

Harry smiled happily, taking the response as agreement. "What food did you like most?"

"I… well, I don't really remember. Chicken perhaps." The ghost replied, still eyeing Harry suspiciously.

Harry grinned. "Hey, Seamus was it?" He asked the sandy haired boy.

"Yeah mate, what're you after?" Seamus replied in an Irish lilt, his grin matching Harry's.

"Could you possibly pass me a piece of that chicken? The best bit you can find!"

Seamus smiled, nodded and chose a delicious looking piece of chicken breast which he put on an empty plate and passed to Harry.

"Thanks." Harry took the plate and stared at the chicken, before looking at the ghost. "This won't take a moment… I don't know if it'll work though." He said.

Closing his eyes Harry concentrated and gradually began to sense the magic around him. He stopped, gasping, and swayed dangerously.

"Whoa, you alright there mate?" Ron asked him, holding on to the brunette to stop him falling. Harry noticed the others nearby watching him worriedly. The ghost looked intrigued.

"Yeah, I'm fine. There… there's just so… so much, I didn't – I didn't know there would be so much." He took a deep breath, not noticing the confused looks darting about. "Let me try again."

He closed his eyes again, and concentrated, taking it slower so as to acclimatise himself. Gradually he felt the thrum of magic. Again he tilted from the force of it all, but Ron's hand on his back kept him steady, and he didn't stop.

Harry found, with his mind, the ghost standing nearby. Concentrating on how the ghost felt he carefully applied the same feeling onto the chicken on the plate in his hand. Slowly he felt it change. He'd done it.

Harry opened his eyes. "Bloody Hell, what's with the light show?" He asked, as marvellous colours danced before his eyes.

"Light show?" Percy asked, "Are you feeling alright, Mr Potter?"

Harry blinked as he turned to Percy, and the colours disappeared, but he could still feel the magic thrumming through his veins.

"Never been better, thank you Percy." He responded happily, before turning back to the ghost. "Here." He held the plate out. "You'll have to take the chicken yourself, I don't think I can touch it anymore."

The ghost looked at him, startled.

"Oh, don't worry, it's perfectly safe." Harry smiled sweetly. The ghost reached out and took the chicken, looking shocked as he was able to lift it. Slowly he moved the food to his mouth and bit into it.

"Oh my!" The ghost groaned in delight as he chewed. "How on earth did you manage that!"

The ghost was not the only one who was looking at Harry with a mixture of shock and awe.

"Oh, I…" Harry looked unsure, fidgeting under the gazes of his housemates. "I think I read it somewhere…" He said noncommittally.

"I thought it was cool." Neville said timidly, then squeaked as everyone turned to look at him. The ghost coughed.

"Allow me to introduce myself, friend." He said to Harry. "I am Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, resident ghost of the Gryffindor tower." He took off his hat with a flourish.

"I know you!" Ron exclaimed, sufficiently distracted. "You're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I prefer –" The ghost began stiffly.

"_Nearly_ Headless?" Seamus asked. "How can you be _nearly_ headless?"

* * *

Snape had watched attentively as both Harry and Draco were sorted into their houses. The amount of time it had taken to sort Harry was most intriguing, he would have to ask Dumbledore what it meant.

He had also watched in amazement as Harry had successfully managed to transform a piece of chicken for Gryffindor's resident ghost to eat, a feat that no one had managed before and – most likely – would never manage again. The boy was nothing if not intriguing.

Now the potions professor was attempting to feign interest as he listened to Quirrell stuttering on about some potion he'd read about that supposedly warded off Vampires.

_Probably just garlic and holy water with a ludicrous price tag,_ he thought, not really caring either way. Quirrell obviously hadn't noticed the foul mood that Snape was in, because he kept blathering on. _Don't know why Dumbledore wants a fool like that teaching defence,_ Snape thought bitterly, glaring somewhere over Quirrell's shoulder. _I could do a better job!_

Snape jumped, Harry Potter – at whom he'd unintentionally been glaring – had just grabbed his scar, as if in pain.

"Are y-y-you al-alright, S-S-S-Severus?" Quirrell asked timidly.

"I'm fine." Snape responded curtly, "you were saying?"

"Y-yes, w-well, if I b-b-bought a v-v-vial of…" Snape tuned him out, and contemplated what had just happened. _Why would his scar hurt him? _Snape pondered_ Hmm; I shall have to look into it, although I can't say it'll be easy. He's one of a kind after all. _Snape sneered at the last part, and almost laughed at the whimpering it elicited from Quirrell.

* * *

"You alright Harry?" Percy asked as Harry yelped in pain and grabbed his scar.

"F-fine." Harry replied uneasily. The pain had gone, but Harry had a bad feeling, and he was sure it was coming from the dark haired man talking to Quirrell.

"Who is that?" Harry asked. "The, the man talking to Quirrell."

"Oh, you know Quirrell already? That's Professor Snape; Hogwarts Potions master. Although everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job – he's always wanted to teach Defence. Knows a lot about the Dark Arts."

Harry nodded, continuing to watch Snape. The man didn't look at him again, instead glaring at Quirrell and Dumbledore in turn.

Harry returned his attention to the conversation around him. It seemed the discussion of the moment was family. He listened intrigued as everyone explained their backgrounds. Then, when the puddings were cleared away, the hall fell silent as Dumbledore stood up to address them again.

"Ahem, just a few more words before I let you go off to bed.

"First-years should note that the Forbidden Forest is exactly that, Forbidden. A few of our older students would do well to remember that to."

Dumbledore twinkled smilingly at the Weasley twins, and one or two other students.

"I have also been asked by our esteemed caretaker, Mr Filch, to remind you that no magic should be used in the corridors at any time.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Those students interested should approach their house captains. Captains, it is up to you to arrange with Madam Hooch when your try outs will happen.

"Finally I must inform you that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to all that do not wish to die a very painful death."

A few people laughed at that whilst some others looked scared.

"Is he serious?" Harry muttered to Percy.

"Must be." Percy replied frowning, "but it's unusual for him not to explain why."

"Well now, I think that's enough blabbering for now. Off to bed with you!" Dumbledore cried, smiling at the Hufflepuff table where several of the younger students had fallen asleep. "Don't forget to be up bright and early for your lessons! Prefects, show the first years where to go."

Percy stood up pompously as the Hall began to move. "First years, follow me, single file. Come along. First years."

Harry stood up and started to follow when a hand on his arm stopped him. He turned to see George.

"Here, you dropped this." He held out a piece of parchment. Harry started, realising what it must be. Sure enough, the note from Draco was missing. He reached out and took it carefully.

"Thank you." He said slowly.

"Don't worry, we didn't read it." Fred said, appearing beside George.

"I'm sorry, I just…" Harry began, blushing.

"Don't worry." George replied.

"I'm sure it must be important." Fred smiled. "Come on; let's get you to the common room."

"We need to have that talk anyway." George added. With that the twins flanked him, and accompanied him to the Gryffindor Tower.

"Ah, sweet maiden of Gryffindor!" George cried theatrically at a portrait of a rather large, pink dressed, smiling lady.

"That's the Fat Lady." Fred explained to Harry, "She guards the Gryffindor Tower. Have to give a password to get in."

"Doesn't she mind you calling her that? Isn't it rude?" Harry asked unsurely.

"Oh aren't you sweet!" The lady smiled. "It's fine, lamb. I'm not ashamed of what I am, and in any case it's only paint. So long as you have the password I'm not too bothered what you call me."

"See?" George said somewhat smugly.

"Talking of passwords…" The Fat Lady looked at George pointedly.

"_Caput Draconis_." George replied with a bow. "Percy told us." He explained to Harry in a stage whisper.

At the password the portrait had swung forwards, revealing a fairly large, round hole in the wall.

"Need a hand?" This time it was George who offered his arm to Harry. He led the younger boy to the hole and helped him climb through.

As Harry waited for the twins to follow him he looked around the room he'd just entered – the Gryffindor common room. A fire crackled in a large, golden fireplace. Around the room were various squashy red arm chairs and sofas, and a few tables of a golden coloured wood. A couple of the older students were sat at these tables, trying to finish the work they should have done over the summer.

"Are you tired?"

Harry looked at Fred questioningly.

"We just want to know if you want to have that talk now or if you'd prefer to go to bed and talk tomorrow." George clarified.

"Although you may perhaps want to read that note you dropped before you decide…?" Fred suggested.

Harry nodded and looked around to choose a chair. Taking the initiative Fred manoeuvred him into an armchair by the fire, and sat himself and his twin opposite the bespectacled boy.

"Read away." Fred said, waving his hand dismissively.

Harry smiled and pulled out the note.

_'Disused charms classroom. Ten o' clock tonight.'_

_That was short and sweet_, Harry thought confused.

"Everything alright Harry?" George asked tentatively. Harry looked at the red heads opposite him thoughtfully, did he trust them? _Of course I do, and how else will I get there?_

"Where is the disused charms room?" He asked slowly.

The twins each raised identical eyebrows.

"Do you want directions or to be taken?"

"I think you'd best take me." He replied, hoping desperately he was making the right choice. "I – I trust you." He added somewhat nervously.

Both twins smiled. "When do you need to be there?" Asked Fred.

"Ten o' clock."

"Well," said George cheerfully, "That gives us all of five minutes to cross the school. Come on."

* * *

"Here we are." George pushed open the door to reveal an empty room.

"Looks like your person isn't here yet." Said Fred, "Shall we wait? We wouldn't want you to get lost on the way back." He explained. Harry nodded silently and walked to the window, looking out across the lake to the forest and the mountains beyond. The twins exchanged a look but left him to it.

Harry wasn't sure how long he stood there – tracing absent minded patterns on the dusty window sill – but the next thing he heard was Draco's voice.

"What the Hell are you doing here Weasley? Weasley?"

Harry span around and saw Fred and George facing Draco, all three with their wands raised.

"Harry, why is Malfoy here?" Fred asked slowly.

Harry walked forwards and stood himself between Draco and the twins, facing the redheads.

"Fred, George, please put your wands down." He asked quietly. He turned to Draco and was shocked to see the blond glaring at him. "Draco, I – I'm sorry."

"Draco?" Fred repeated, but George shushed him.

Draco sneered at the twins. "I thought you were meant to hate me Potter, not calling me _Draco_ like we were best friends."

"I thought we were." Harry replied. "I can't… I just needed someone to know." Harry looked up and noticed the fear in the blonde's eyes.

"Fuck, Harry!" Draco cried, "You can't just… you can't tell, no one is allowed to know! It's not safe!"

"I trust them." Harry replied helplessly.

"Malfoy." George interrupted before Draco could reply. "I won't pretend to understand how this has come about, but it's obvious that you and Harry are friends. A friend of Harry is… well, not an enemy of ours at least.

"If the two of you are going to be wandering off to meet up Harry will need an alibi. Now he has two. I know you don't trust us, and we don't trust you, but we all trust Harry."

George gave Fred a pointed look.

"Oh fine." Fred sighed. "Merlin Harry, how can you be so manipulative without even doing anything?" The smile that accompanied the question softened the words. "Hurt him, Malfoy, and I will make sure your life is very painful."

Draco stared at Fred askance for a moment, then, much to Harry's surprise, began to laugh.

"Shall we try this again?" He asked, once he'd stopped laughing. He held his hand out to Fred. "Draco Malfoy, son and heir of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."

Fred paused for a moment before taking the proffered hand. "Fred Weasley, son of Arthur and Molly Weasley. Have you met my brother?"

George too took the offered hand and introduced himself. The three then turned to Harry.

"I'm just going to assume this is a good thing." Harry said, unsure as to what exactly had happened. "So Draco, why was it you wanted to see me?"

Draco shrugged. "I was told to." He replied, still eyeing the twins warily. "Mum and Dad say 'Hi', they're going to write you. If anyone asks say your owling a friend from Beauxbatons."

"Beauxbatons?" Harry asked.

"It's another Wizarding school. French." George replied.

Draco nodded in agreement. "We have family in France, and one of the Malfoy properties is near Beauxbatons." He explained. "That was pretty much the reason I was told to meet you, to tell you that. Oh, and to meet me at least every Friday night. It'll be nine the other nights. Dumbledore's arranged it."

Harry nodded. "That sounds good to me."

"I didn't expect you to be so good at acting." Draco said, changing the subject slightly.

"Sorry?"

"On the train. I genuinely thought that you hated me." Draco explained with a wry smile. "I know you don't. That jolt of whatever it was told me that. How did you do that anyway? It was incredible!"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I was just trying to make sure you knew I liked you."

George looked at Harry, then at Draco. "D'you think this may have something to do with why he took so long to sort and – ?" He stopped abruptly and looked at Harry.

"And how he managed to make food that can be eaten by ghosts?" Draco finished dryly.

"You saw that?" Fred asked, shocked. Draco shrugged nonchalantly, but was blushing slightly.

"Yes. I think they're all linked, I wanted to ask him about it."

"Well that's what we wanted to discuss with Harry too. Mind if we join the conversation?" George asked courteously.

"Not at all." Draco replied. "Would you care to conjure some seats?"

Fred and George obliged, conjuring squashy armchairs for them all. Harry noted that they had decided not to use the house colours but settled instead for a deep, rich purple. Harry sank into the closest one and curled up tiredly, closing his eyes.

"You alright Harry?" Draco asked worriedly.

"Yeah, just tired. It's been a long day."

"We could wait until tomorrow." Fred said reasonably, but Harry shook his head.

"No, let's do this now. You wanted to know why I took so long to be sorted?" Draco and the twins all nodded. "The hat said I didn't belong in any house."

"It said what?" Draco exploded, sounding outraged. Harry looked up, shocked, and noticed that the red heads too looked displeased at that news.

"I – well it was more that… that I belong in all the houses, it couldn't decide which." Harry began to explain what the hat had said to him. He knew it would take some time.

* * *

Harry had been dozing in the arm chair for the past ten minutes whilst Draco and the twins discussed what the hat had said and what it all meant.

Perhaps he had eaten too much earlier, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which was talking him and telling him he didn't belong at Hogwarts. Harry told the turban he didn't want to leave; it got heavier and heavier. He tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully. He saw the hook nosed teacher – Snape – he was laughing at Harry as he struggled. The laugh turned high and cold and Snape's black eyes turned red. Then there was a flash of green light and Harry jerked awake, sweating and shaking.

"Harry?" Draco was knelt by his chair in an instant, his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Harry shuddered, he felt sick. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. Letting it out again he opened his eyes and looked into Draco's. The silver-grey was filled with worry.

"Bad dream?" George asked sympathetically. "Want to talk about it?"

"N-no." Harry replied, sitting up shakily. "No I'm ok." He added more certainly, and then when there worried looks didn't abate, "It was nothing."

"Hmm. I think we should get you to bed." Fred decided. "We'll finish talking next time."

Harry nodded, letting Draco help him out of the chair and pass him to George.

"Night Malfoy." George said.

"Goodnight, Weasley, Weasley. Goodnight Harry."

Fred nodded in reply, whilst Harry simply blinked sleepily. He leant on George heavily as the red head led him from the room, one stocky, freckled arm wrapped around the smaller boy's waist. Harry was barely aware of the trip back to the Gryffindor tower. He didn't notice the Fat Lady's clucking at the state he was in. As the twins laid him in his bed he mumbled incoherently and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N:**Word count for this chapter ~5400 words.

Anyone who didn't read the A/N at the top, please do, it contains some important information and I will not be held responsible if you did not read it.

The title for this chapter is an old saying, although edited very slightly. It's up to you to decide what it refers to, whether obvious (e.g. the sorting) or less obvious (e.g. ... wait, why would I tell you that?)

Next:

Chapter Four: Friends and Enemies


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